


Potential Energy

by Mundivore



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Fusion, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, One-Shot, Steven Waxes Philosophical, With a side of dread, change your mind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-22
Updated: 2019-01-22
Packaged: 2019-10-14 10:52:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,100
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17507219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mundivore/pseuds/Mundivore
Summary: Steven felt his ability to carry the weight, and the weight itself, both increase in proportion.Spoilers for Change Your Mind. Steven considers his potential.





	Potential Energy

He remembered, briefly, seeing himself with two sets of eyes. One of him was lofty, yet frail. The essence of humanity. Nuance. Reason. Moderation. The other knew nothing but extremes. Pure power, absolute clarity.

In this moment, they knew both everything, and nothing.

The Steven with the gem knew everything of what he must do, where he must go, what he felt. He knew nothing of restraint, of happiness, of _reason._ He knew what he must do, but he could not understand why.

The Steven without the gem knew everything of consequences. He knew the ramifications of failure, of success, the things that they were fighting for. He knew he was dying, in two bodies at once. He knew that he was formless, in pain. But he knew nothing of where he was, how he could possibly recover the situation, what had ever put him here.

And together, they were whole.

 

Steven sat quietly by Connie, in front of a fire. They rested on each other gently—each had a blanket of their own, but Garnet had wrapped a third blanket around the both of them. Greg was asleep, and most of the gems were over closer to the house, discussing something. The scent of burnt hot-dog still permeated the little campsite—Steven could see the little hunks of charcoal that had been the ill-fated sausage. The only gem still by the campsite was Garnet herself, and she was staring off into the distance quietly, lost in her own worlds.

“Hey, Connie?” Steven asked, nudging her ever so slightly. “You awake?”

She yawned.

“Maybe not for much longer,” she admitted, “But yeah. What is it?”

“Fusions… fusions, are stronger than the people who make them, right? You think?”

“I guess so. Seems like it.”

“I was a lot stronger… without my human part,” Steven said, quietly. Contemplating the ease with which he could fend off White Diamond’s assault. It was impossible, and yet simplicity.

Impossible, said the part of him that had lost the gem.

Trivial, said the part that had lost the human.

Connie seemed, all of the sudden, a lot more awake.

“I… don’t think that’s right,” Connie said. “The other you—”

Steven shook his head. “They were both me. Both me.”

“Right. The you… with the gem. He was clearly missing a lot, too. I don’t think he was better without… the human-ness.”

“Right. I think that’s right. I’m better, than either of them.” Steven held a hand close to his chest, clenched tight in a fist. Fingers, nervously rubbing. “But still… I feel like, I’m less powerful, than one of them. Does that make sense?”

“I mean… maybe. We don’t know.”

“I was just thinking… maybe it’s because, being stronger actually makes you _worse._ Maybe, when I fused into _me,_ I became less powerful because someone that strong _can’t_ be good. It’s like… the whole ‘power corrupts’ deal.”

“I—” Connie started to respond, but then stopped. She pursed her lips. Something didn’t seem right about it to her, but she didn’t know quite what.

“Steven,” Garnet interrupted. She was listening after all. “If you were ten times as strong, a hundred times as strong, you’d still be Steven.”

“I _was_ still Steven. But I was worse, I was mean, I was—”

“You were _injured,_ ” Garnet insisted, looking towards the two of them. Insistence, sadness flooded her tone. “You were hurt. You can’t call yourself a worse person for that.”

“Yeah,” Connie chipped in. “If you had all the power that gem-you had back there, right now, I wouldn’t be treating you any different.”

She leaned in a little closer, the closest thing you can get to a hug when your arms are wrapped into a different blanket.

“It’s not about how much power you have,” she said. “It’s about how you use it. It’s why I’ve always hated those stories about evil wizards with too much power and stuff like that. It’s never the power’s fault for corrupting the person. It’s the _person’s_ fault for being corrupted by it. The stories never seem to put the emphasis in the right place.”

“How do you know I wouldn’t be a bad person with that much power?” Steven asked, quietly. “What if having that much power makes me… like that?”

“Because you’re not that kind of person, Steven,” Connie said, with gentle authority. “Even when you were split apart, I was never afraid of you.”

Steven remembered the scene through pink eyes.

“You were afraid,” he insisted.

“Not of you,” Connie replied without a beat. “ _For_ you. You’re a good person, Steven. Really. You were… forceful, sure. You were hurt, and scared, and tired, and angry, all at the same time, and in two places at once. But I never thought for even a second, that either of you would hurt me.”

Steven’s tension relented, and externally, he relaxed.

“Thanks, Connie,” he sighed. “That… that helps. A lot.”

“Any time, Steven.” Connie smiled softly. “I’m here.”

Steven let the issue rest for a couple of minutes, but something itched at him the whole while.

“Connie?” he asked again.

“Mm?” She replied, sleepier this time.

“If I ever get that strong… does me being that strong, does that change anything? Would we still be friends?”

“Mhm,” Connie nodded. “I trust you.”

 

That trust felt so simultaneously like the greatest weight he’d ever shouldered, and the most precious gift he’d ever been given.

 

Steven found himself in the Beta Kindergarten, in the wreckage where Jasper had fought Smoky Quartz. He wandered around the cracked stone, and remembered.

He remembered the clarity, the ease, the potency of the power he’d used to sunder White Diamond’s chamber.

**_SHE’S GONE._ **

It had been catharsis.

He looked around, and finding himself alone, he screwed his eyes shut and tried to remember that moment. That emotion. That feeling.

No, no. This wouldn’t do. He opened his eyes. It was _actualization._ Will. Intent. In his mind’s eye, he envisioned himself shattering the wall in front of him. He breathed deeply, and summoned all his frustrations, and shouted—no, screamed, screamed at the wall.

When he was done, the wall was unbroken. Unmoving. He smiled, a little. Chuckled, a little. Not sure if he was disappointed, or relieved. In the end, he was the same old Steven.

There was the sound of crumbling.

He turned, and his eyes widened. Cracks spiderwebbed up the cliff face behind him. The whole of it slumped slowly, and crashed to the ground with a rumble.

 

Steven felt his ability to carry the weight, and the weight itself, both increase in proportion.


End file.
